The Significance Of A Rose
by thorn-bird
Summary: P/J. Primarily sappy sloppy Angsty crap. Post "Mutt and Jake". "It's just a flower, Jake. You can't solve everything by sending me flowers." "But it's a rose." "So?"


Title: The Significance Of A Rose  
  
By: Megs  
  
Rating: PG-15 and a half  
  
Category: P/J. Takes place directly after "Mutt and Jake", Vignette  
  
Summary: "It's just a flower, Jake. You can't solve everything by sending me flowers." "But it's a rose." "So?"  
  
Archive: If there ARE any.  
  
Feedback: hobbit_kisser@hotmail.com  
  
Notes: PLEASE READ. Okay, Fanfiction is so awesome. So far I've managed to pervert The X-Files, Smallville, Boston Public AND That 70s Show. Now I'm working into GMM, too. Woo hoo!!  
***  
Penny  
***  
I stopped outside of his--Dylan's--studio apartment, and leaned against the door.  
  
Staring down at the ground, I fought back the tears that I knew were coming. What was I doing? Why was I letting this get to me?  
  
Right when Jake told Dylan that the kiss was real, right when we started going out, I knew it was a mistake. I knew that I just happened to be there. It was convenient. And now that we'd crossed the line, there was no going back to how things were.  
  
I know that it's a stupid thing to think--but I don't really care if Jake still has feelings for Dylan. I don't care if he really cares. Just as long as I got to be with him.  
  
Those few days were good, and I only wish that we'd been able to gone further. Then maybe he would have forgotten about Dylan.  
  
Dylan. I hate her so much. It really was all her fault.  
  
But I couldn't blame her too much. After all, had Jake not lain eyes on her, he would have left.  
  
I wish that I could say that about myself. That he had lain eyes on me and decided to stay.  
  
But in reality, Jake saw me as nothing. Maybe a friend.  
  
But now I'm not even so sure about that.  
***  
Jake  
***  
She's gone.  
  
I'm all alone now. It was just me, the boxes, and the beer Penny had left on the coffee table.  
  
I picked it up, leaned back on the couch, and took a sip.  
  
I knew it was the right thing. Leading her on wasn't fair to her. Or to me. But now she's gone.   
  
When I found out Penny liked me (God, that sounds so adolescent), I'd had thoughts. I thought maybe I could get over Dylan.   
  
But it was a mistake from the start. All I'd ended up doing was hurting Penny. I never wanted to do that. Ever. And now I felt a little hurt myself.  
  
I guess I do have feelings for her. But the ones for Dylan are still there, too. Staying with Penny while I still felt something for another woman was just unethical.  
  
I know that if we even stay friends, nothing will be the same.  
  
I screwed up. And now I'm just empty.  
***  
Penny  
***  
I knew who it was from before I even looked at the card.  
  
It sat on my desk, a single rose in a clear, glass vase, with a small piece of paper folded in half, perched in front of it.  
  
I discarded of the card first, then dropped the vase in after it--rose and all.  
  
'Wonder why he sent a rose.' I thought, pulling out my chair and absentmindedly doodling on a legal pad.  
  
Last time he had sent a large green pot of yellow mums stuffed in wet, black potting soil.  
  
Now a single red rose, in a tall clear vase of water.  
  
'Maybe he thinks a rose would be better for the occasion,' I thought. Then, 'Occasion?'  
  
I sighed, trying to pay attention to what I was doing, but a heavy, sick, sinfully sweet aroma lifted from the garbage pail, and it wasn't the half of a stale bagel I'd just thrown in there.  
  
It was the smell that would forever remind me of him.  
  
And it was almost as if it was beckoning to me.  
  
Okay, I had to do it. I had to read the card.  
  
I reached down and sifted through paper until I found the small, pink slip, folded in half, reading "Miami Gift and Floral" in small golden letters across the front.  
  
I flipped it open and sighed, liking just to stare at his handwriting.  
  
"Penny-  
I really hope we can still be friends.  
Jake."  
  
"Deep." I muttered to myself, crumpling the card and dropping it back in.   
  
"What?"  
"What?"  
  
I looked up. Dylan, standing above me, peering into the garbage pail.   
"Oh, nothing, Dylan. Just talking to myself."  
  
"That's a pretty rose. Why is it in the trash?"  
"I think it looks nice."  
"Uh huh."  
  
I watched her walk away, then glanced back down at the blood red petals.   
  
Then I pulled it out of the vase and held onto the stem, not caring that the thorns were jabbing into my skin.  
  
I marched to his office and threw open the door.  
  
He looked up from his laptop, startled, but then his face softened.  
  
I'd seen it soften like that before when Dylan came into the room.  
***  
Jake  
***  
She threw open the door and stood there, holding onto the rose I'd sent her. It hung loosely by her side, but she lifted it up, closed the door, and moved swiftly over in front of my desk.  
  
"What the hell is this?"  
"Gee Penny, I don't know…I *think* it's a flower, but I'm not quite sure."  
  
"Why'd you send me a rose, Jake?"  
"It's just a gesture. I want to go back to being friends, Penny."  
  
"It's just a flower, Jake. You can't solve everything by sending me flowers."   
"But it's a rose."   
"So?"  
  
"So?!" I stood up and circled around my desk, leaning against the front of it. "It's a rose, Penny. A red rose."  
  
"Stop saying that. What's so damned significant about a *rose*?" she asks.  
  
I stood up straight then, and moved closer. Her hand gripped the stem, and I slowly closed mine over hers. She moved hers away, and I was left with the rose in my hand.   
  
I was now only inches from her.  
  
I liked standing close to her. She has beautiful eyes. And when you're up close, you can see them. From far away they look brown, but when you look up close they're like hazel tinted emeralds.  
  
"A red rose is the prettiest, don't you think? They also have the softest petals," I stroked the soft, unopened bud. "It stands for friendship."  
  
Penny cleared her throat. "Uh, no it doesn't."  
"What?"  
"Yellow stands for friendship."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yes I'm sure," she insisted. "Red means…something else."  
  
"What?"  
"Huh?"  
"What does it mean?"  
  
"Oh. Love, passion and lust."  
  
I stared blankly at her for a moment.   
  
Damn. I'd sent the wrong color rose.  
  
Or did I?  
  
"Well…I'm sorry Penny, that's all. I just didn't know how to say it."  
  
She nodded, looking down at the flower that I held. She took it back from me, then leaned up to plant an innocent kiss on my cheek.  
  
But I turned my head so instead I ended up getting an innocent kiss on the mouth.  
  
She stared into my eyes for a minute, not moving her head. Our lips were less than a centimeter apart.  
  
The kiss that followed was as innocent than the last, and reminded me of the first kiss I ever had from the neighbor girl, when we were five and six years old.  
  
Her eyes never closed. Neither did mine. I kept them open to look at her.  
  
Even when she leaned up and kissed me innocently again, her gaze never drifted from mine.  
  
She leaned in again, but I held up my hand, "Pe--"  
"Just shut up."  
"Okay."  
  
This one was anything but innocent. Her eyes closed in concentration as her lips overlapped mine, and her tongue gently prodded my mouth open.   
  
The kiss deepened as she took my face in in her hands and leaned closer against me, her small body fitting perfectly against mine.  
  
That's one thing--she was smaller than me. Dylan was a tall girl, but Penny fit perfectly against me. I liked that feeling, of having a smaller body up against me when we're being intimate.  
  
I dropped the rose and cupped her face, sliding my tongue across her lips, letting hers slide across mine. She tasted of toothpaste and bran muffin.  
  
It was amazing.  
  
Slowly, she pulled away. We still cupped each other's faces. I stroked hair out of her eye with my thumb, and stared deeply at her.  
  
She took a deep breath, leaned down, and grabbed the rose.  
  
Then she left my office and sat at her desk, without a word spoken.  
***  
Penny  
***   
I left the vase in the trash and laid the rose horizontally in front of the paper I was scribbling on.  
  
I stared at it.  
  
God, he is amazing. Why did I do what I'd just done?  
  
I wanted to kiss him again. For being a dork he's a good kisser.   
  
I have to tell him. I have to tell him and that's it.  
  
It wouldn't be easy. But I'd just have to march right in, tell him I'm in love with him, and that would be that.   
  
No, it wouldn't. He would follow. He would ask questions….  
  
But I had to take the risk. He doesn't know and he has a right to.  
  
I pick up the rose, stand, and turn around, facing his office.  
  
But my heart, which has been thudding in my chest for the past five minutes, stops. Because standing in the doorway is the backside of Dylan.  
  
"Jake can I talk to you?" she asked.  
  
She closed the door behind her after he said sure, and my heart dropped.  
  
I couldn't tell him.  
  
He had a right to know, but he didn't deserve to know.  
  
I glanced down at the trash pail, and dropped the rose in.   
  
And it stayed there, wilting. The red petals had turned dark purple by the end of the week.  
  
If Red stands for love, passion and lust, maybe purple stands for heartache.  
***  
Fin.  
*** 


End file.
